Delirious Heart
by The Evilest Regal
Summary: Ingrid has manage to entrap Regina, stripping her of her magic. They have a past and Ingrid is eager to exact her revenge on the woman who ripped her family apart.


**Just a quick fic that was running rampant through my head and I put it on paper.**

**This will not be continued because honestly I am in no position to start anything else ongoing, as I have multiple other fics that need updating.**

**Summary: Ingrid has manage to entrap Regina, stripping her of her magic. They have a past and Ingrid is eager to exact her revenge on the woman who ripped her family apart.**

**Warning: mentions of rape if you squint**

**Delirious Heart**

Regina Mills hasn't been one to beg for many years. Begging implied weakness, alluded to the fact that someone held something over you and that meant that they had power over you, controlled you. She was the Queen and then the powerhouse of a Mayor. The last time she had felt utterly powerless was under Cora's abusive hand and then later Leopold's, those awful nights she has pushed to the darkest portions of her mind and she doesn't care to indulge in them at all, but this, her forced onto her knees, stripped of all free will, is horribly reminiscent upon those nights she wishes to forget, and she vowed to never allow anyone to have that control over her for as long as she lived ever again. And she kept that promise. She was the one forcing people to beg, for their lives, for their homes, their possessions. You name it and she controlled it.

She refuses to plead for her own well being. Put a gun to her head and threaten to pull the trigger, and she'll call you out on your cowardice, then dare you to do it. So when the Snow Queen has her buckled down on her knees in the snow, her kneecaps burning as the ice seeps through her dress pants, and she's shivering, her lips an awful shade of blue and her shivers running so deep that her bones are rattling, and she's telling her how if she has any desire to live, she'd have to beg for her life, the brunette Queen simply chuckles lightly, puffing out smoky wisps of breath, and instructs her on exactly how far up her ass she can stick that little smirk. That she has never begged for anything her whole life (which isn't the whole truth, Regina admits, but the ice bitch is none the wiser, so what's the harm?) and she certainly does not plan on starting today. She's slipping in and out of consciousness, thanks to the well below zero temperatures of whatever little chamber her new friend has decided would be best to torture her in, but she catches the basic gist of the conversation.

Apparently, they aren't exactly _new _friends. Back in Arendelle, during one of Regina's long journey's to find the whereabouts of Snow White, the Evil Queen and her had crossed paths. Ingrid had relentlessly begged for mercy to be granted upon her sisters and her parents, insisted they knew nothing of the bandit's location, had barely even heard the girl's name. But Regina wasn't having that, and she took their mother, hiding her away in the dungeons back in the Enchanted Forest and eventually killing her. Turns out Ingrid's mother was aiding Snow, and she paid the price.

The irony of the situation doesn't escape Regina. How terribly poetic is would be to be murdered in cold blood by a Queen on a quest for revenge, spurred by the death of her loved one. A tragic story, really, one that Regina is uncomfortably familiar with. But she won't beg, wouldn't even consider it as a substantial option to escaping death. Because even if she did plead for forgiveness, beg for mercy, Ingrid would never grant it to her. Not when years back, she was in Regina's shoes and the Queen did not offer even the slightest bit of mercy. Do upon others as it was done onto you. They share more common ground than she'd care to admit.

There's a thought, itching at the back of Regina's skull, pulling on her already fragile state of mind. It's relentless, but she refuses to acknowledge its existence. Won't even toy with the idea of it becoming reality. So she pushes it aside and focuses on maintaining consciousness, grasping reality. She's wiggling her toes, and taking deep breaths, the chilly air inflating her lungs and then breathing out in plumes of white smoke, because she absolutely _refuses _to give up. And so she fights for her consciousness like she's never fought for anything before.

And the blonde is still talking, but it's all irrelevant in Regina's mind, and she filters it out, focusing on how to unlock these pesky magic-blocking handcuffs that the Snow Queen had managed to trap her in. But her attempts are futile, the locks aren't budging, and she squeezes her eyes shut, clenching her jaw in frustration. And that's when she hears them. The names.

And suddenly everything that Ingrid says is magnified by multitudes and her eyes snap open, zeroing in on the smirk on the blonde woman's lips. The same lips that had just declared war not more that five seconds ago.

Because you can talk shit about Regina, curse her name, but you will _not _make threats to the people that she loves. And that is exactly what the Queen has just done. Brought that nagging thought in the back of her mind to life, made it a reality. She is planning to use the ones she loves against her.

"Well, that certainly got your attention now didn't it?" she says in that low, almost seductive voice that grates on Regina's last nerve. "You understand, of course, that this opportunity was just too _delicious _to pass up." The Queen walks until she is merely a few feet away from the kneeling brunette, and crouches down so she's eye level with her. "See, you are not willing to fight for your own safety alone, and that fact makes this much less satisfying for me. I need to see you suffer, as I have. And it seems the only way to accomplish this is to find your weakness." And then she smiles with those pearly white teeth, and Regina hates herself more than she's every hated herself before, self-loathing crawling up her throat, making it almost impossible for her to draw in shaky breaths. Because she has played right into those icy hands, done exactly as Ingrid had wished she would. "And you, my dear Regina, have just revealed exactly what your weaknesses are: your loved ones."

An inhuman sound emits from her body, and she glares as best she can at the woman. "If you so much as touch them," and her voice is hoarse, and weak, and certainly not threatening in the least, "I will…"

"You'll what?" and the smile is back, because honestly, what _is _Regina going to do when she's struggling to keep even herself alive. "Your son, what was his name?" the hairs on the back of Regina's neck stand up. "Oh yes, _Henry. _He'll be the first. And you can hear his screams echoing off the walls of this very chamber, as you're slipping in and out of consciousness. And I'll keep you alive just enough for you to be aware that this is no one's fault but your own. You did this, Regina, and your son is paying the price." The satisfaction is radiating off of her now, her plan is falling into place just as she wanted. "And then that archer boy with the pretty eyes," and she's right, he does have stunning eyes, and maybe it's because the delirium is beginning to set in, but just the thought of him looking at her with those curious, bright blue eyes brings a flush to her deathly white cheeks, and the fact that Ingrid says that she loves him, her thief, well that results with butterflies in waves throughout her stomach. And there couldn't be a worse time to come to such a revelation, but yes, yes she does love him, and she regrets it taking her this long to realize that, regrets wasting the chances she's had to whisper just how much she loves him in his ear. "He'll be next. But before I make him suffer, I'll feed him all sorts of tales about the things his beloved Regina has done over the span of her lifetime. And I will teach him to hate you, turn him against you. And then maybe, just maybe if I'm lucky enough, he might just be willing to help me put you out of your misery." A sob rips through her body, fat, hot tears rolling down her cheeks, and the butterflies have been replaced by dread, uncoiling deep in her chest and stomach by the minute. "How does that sound?"

"What do-do you want from me?" and she's shivering so much, she can barely form comprehensible words, but she manages because the thought of her son suffering and her thief turning against her is unbearable.

"What I want is simple," she says, and Regina highly doubts that, the requests of a tortured heart are rarely ever simple, but she nods, frantically, because yes, yes she will do anything to keep the people she _loves _safe, unharmed. "Your suffering." And what better way to make her suffer than to harm the ones she loves. And she realizes there is no stopping this woman, only delaying her, if she's lucky. There is nothing she can say or do to make up for what she has done to her, the pain she has inflicted upon her, to change the desires of her cold heart, because it is set in stone. And possibly for the first time in her life, she is showered with cold regret.

"I want you to beg for mercy," the words are coming slow to her now, and she knows that it won't be much longer. She can't hold onto consciousness for more than a few minutes(it's a miracle she made it this long) and so she makes a split second decision.

"_Please_," and it's so low, even she has to strain to hear it, but it's there, it's not nonexistent, so she tries again. "P-please don't…don't hu-hurt them. Just…" and she breathes in one last time and feels herself slowly slipping away, and she knows this is her last chance, "leave them…"

She doesn't get the chance to finish, not when the doors to the chamber burst open. There's a fight, she thinks, and heat rolls around the room in waves, heat from magic, she recognizes. She wishes desperately she could open her eyes, but she just can't, they're heavy, like lead, and so she focuses on taking shallow breaths, staying at least mildly conscious. She vaguely registers a pair of arms around her, the heat radiating off of them seeping into her pores. She groans, and tries to open her eyes, tries to see who this person is, but she doesn't need to. She can _smell _who it is, that rich pine scent. She can feel the defined muscles in his arms, the same arms that held her close not twenty-four hours ago. Can hear the low raspy voice as he's whispering encouraging words into her ear, telling her to hold on, _begging_ her to please _just stay alive_. _Robin. _And a small smile graces her blue lips, because her thief has found her, and she might not be one hundred percent okay, but she will have a fighting chance, and she never pegged herself as one to rush into the knight's arms, letting him save the day, but she has to admit, it feels pretty damn good. And she finally lets herself drift away into oblivion.

**I appreciate all feedback. Hope you enjoyed!**


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